


Friends of the Stars

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Violence, F/M, Multi, Running Away, Young Bellamy, Young Clarke, young octavia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8799184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I'm really tired so I haven't even written a summary or done all the tags I need to do but I just really wanted to share this with you all. Please let me know if you're enjoying by commenting and leaving Kudos and I'll be sure to answer any suggestions or questions you might have. Xx Sarah





	

He could taste the blood, metallic and warm, seeping through the cracks of his slashed lip and trickling down his chin. Shattered pieces of the broken flower box lay in a crumbled mess all around him as he lay face down in the wreck. It hurt to move, hell, it even hurt to breathe. But it wasn't like this whole experience was a new one. In fact, at thirteen years old Bellamy was accustomed to the wrath of his father. He knew not to provoke him, but he was getting tired of being the subject of his overruling hand. He was getting older, wiser and his opinions becoming stronger, but his father always had control. Even with the ringing in his ears he could hear his puppeteer's breathing looming over him. His lungs sucking in anger filled breaths as he turned his son over with the toe of his leather boot. Bellamy looked up at the man that was staring at him with a mixture of hatred and hostility. His fathers eyes were a mix of marshy green and dark amber, searing Bellamy's skin like they had done many times before. Around his scowling mouth was a forest of black brittle hairs that was beginning to show signs of turning grey while his teeth were an unsettling yellow of colour. The dim porch light was casting a dark shadow over his attacker, making him seem even more terrifying. Conrad Blake, a once caring, loving and empathic father suddenly turned bitter, angry and abusive once his wife was out of the picture. 

"I won't be disobeyed," he spat, straightening his figure while still towering over his son, making him feel so small. Bellamy's father wasn't an overly tall man, but he had always been threatening, especially when Bellamy was sprawled on the floor as helpless as he was now. "Do I make myself clear?" 

Bellamy nodded while bringing the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth to touch the place where his lip had been split open. "Yes sir," he mumbled quietly, an automatic response that he had been conditioned to say every time his father ordered him to do something. 

His father muttered something along the lines of _pathetic no good son of a bitch_ under his breath before speaking in an annoyed and demanding tone. "Clean up this mess. It was your mothers favourite," he motioned towards the crumbled concrete of the flower pot before continuing. "I'm going to the Bar." And with that he started to finally back away, but not before threatening him once again and adding, "Clean yourself up boy. I can't be having your goddamn teacher snooping around again." 

Bellamy closed his eyes and when he finally heard the screen door slam he let out a small sigh. The throbbing in his head wasn't anything new but the courage to run and finally break free was. He hated his father more than anything, and he knew damn right that someone like him belonged in a prison cell. But Conrad Blake had always been a charmer, and Bellamy had no doubt in his young mind that he'd be able to get himself out of almost every sticky situation. 

Bellamy found the strength to open his eyes when he heard the sound of his fathers truck pulling out of the gravel driveway. The unforgettable diesel humming in the far distance as the car ground the rocks underneath its tires. After thirty seconds, all that could be heard was the wind rustling through the forest that lined the backyard. Some may consider the sound eery, like ghosts haunting and calling their sorrows and threats but to Bellamy it was the best sound in the world. Hearing the wind meant he didn't have to hear his fathers slurring or shouting booming through the night. The sound of the wind was a much needed escape from a life full or torment. 

The sound of the screen door opening once again caught Bellamy's attention as his eyes drifted toward the frightened little girl standing in the doorway. Her dark brown hair was in messy braids that framed her small face as tears welled her eyes. "He's gone," she whispered quietly, walking towards Bellamy before crouching down beside him. Her words sounded croaky as she helped her brother up into seating position, leaning them both against the side of the house before looking up at him with her big brown eyes. Her gaze traveled to his lip before her brow furrowed. "You're bleeding again," she announced, not sounding scared but rather defeated. 

"I know," he whispered quietly in reply, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. He glanced down at it and noticed the thin, red trail that lined the tatty cotton. "It'll stop soon." 

"Which?" his sister spoke, sounding the smallest she had ever sounded. "The bleeding or daddy hurting you?" 

Bellamy's eyes fell upon his sisters face as he examined her properly. She was only six but she was so wise, and even after trying so hard to shelter her Bellamy hadn't quite managed. They both had to grow up too fast, when being exposed to a world full of violence and anger they couldn't afford to be naive. Bellamy held out his hand as his sister laced her fingers through it, holding on gently, her small fingers clutching onto her brothers much larger ones. He often wished he could give her more than this, more than what she had been growing up with in the last two years. She deserved better, she deserved the world. 

Through messy black curls Bellamy looked up at the night sky and sighed. His late mothers words echoing in his ears, _I want you to promise me something. If you're ever unsure, scared or lonely I want you to look up at the stars. That's where I'll be Bell._ But the sky was starless, nothing but a stretch of grey, dull clouds lined the black canvas with the white moon conveniently peeping out through a small gap. There were no stars and there was no mom. She was hiding, perhaps maybe she was even unsure of what to do next. Typical really, the times he needed her most she somehow always managed to never be there. His sisters voice brought him back down to Earth too quickly as she tugged at his sleeve. "What are you looking for?" Octavia questioned, scrunching up her nose at her brother.

"Nothing," he spoke quietly in response, ducking his head before catching a glimpse of his sisters arm. A formation of dark blue bruises had started forming around her skinny wrist. They lay in stark contrast to her pale skin and it amazed him that he hadn't seen them earlier. 

"Octavia," he asked gently, bringing her arm up closer to him. He knew the exact bruises all to well, the way dad use to hold him too tightly whenever he wanted something from him, but he'd never seen them on his sister. Octavia looked up at him and he saw the panic in her eyes, the way her breath suddenly hitched and her lip finding its way between her teeth. His tone suddenly turned serious as he spoke. "Did he do this to you?" 

He didn't even wait for an answer, because he already knew it. Anger bubbled up inside him as he rose to his feet. The violence towards himself was nothing knew, but now knowing that his father had begun injuring his baby sister was the final straw. "O, you promised me if dad ever hurt you you'd tell me." 

"He didn't mean it," she whispered on the verge of tears as Bellamy helped her rise to her feet to stand opposite him. "I left my barbies out and he stood on one." 

Bellamy gently took his sisters hand and brought in through the screen door to the living room. The house was an absolute mess even though Bellamy tried his hardest to make it comfortable. Empty beer cans lined almost every free space of furniture and the smell of cigarette smoke was ultimately overwhelming. The TV was blasting some kind of annoying cartoon that Octavia was occasionally allowed to watch while stained carpet lined every inch of floor space. This was it, Bellamy decided. This wasn't home. This was hell. 

He quickly glanced up at the clock and roughly calculated how long they had until their father stumbled through the door in his drunken state of anger. 8:13 PM. With luck their father wouldn't be home for another few hours, that is if he hadn't managed to get himself kicked out beforehand. 

Bellamy quickly tugged Octavia into their shared bedroom and ordered her to pack everything the was necessary for a runaway plan. "Bell we can't," his sister urged. "Dad's gonna get mad and you know what happens when he gets mad." 

Bellamy emptied both their school backpacks and watched as crumbled paper, cheap stationary and second workbooks scattered the ground before stopping to look at his sister. "He's not going to hurt us anymore. He won't be able to." 

A small tear rolled down Octavia's cheek before she wiped it away and nodded. He could tell she was absolutely terrified and on the inside, he was too. But he couldn't show it. He needed to he strong for his sister, he needed to be strong for himself.

"Ok then," Bellamy spoke, walking towards the chest of drawers and opening the first compartment quickly. He quickly gathered all of Octavia's clothes before throwing them on the ground in front of her. "Quickly O, get as much as you can inside. Don't worry about folding." Bellamy then began to do the same, quickly shoving everything inside before throwing the stuffed backpack out the door and into the living room. 

In a hurried motion he opened the draw of his nightstand and opened the secret compartment he had inside. Finally he produced a small slip of paper and his entire life's savings. $103. He sighed and knew that this wasn't much but it was all he had and it was better than nothing. He tucked the money and paper inside his pocket before turning around to look at his sister. Her backpack hung off one shoulder as she gripped onto her two barbies tightly. She was six, and in a perfect world six year olds didn't need to runaway from home. But this wasn't a perfect world, this was reality. Reality sucked. "Are you bringing that?" He asked gently before she nodded. "Alright," he announced softly. "Come on." 

He took her hand and walked her towards the living room before picking up his own backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. They were halfway to the door before he felt his sisters small grip tug at his arm. "The album," she whispered quietly. "I want the album." 

Bellamy sighed before nodding. She was talking about the photo album their mother kept when they were both growing up. It had pictures of their joyous mother smiling up at the camera while holding her newborns, it had candid pictures that Bellamy took of his mother and it had family portraits of the three of them, their father never participating but always being on the sidelines. That's why Octavia loved it so much. It was as if he never even existed. 

Bellamy quickly found it and shoved it under his arm before walking out the front door one last time. "Say goodbye to the house O," he whispered. "Cos' we ain't ever coming back." 

As they made their way down the quiet suburban streets of their town Bellamy only had one destination of his mind. He knew they'd both be safe there and he knew when they finally got there it would be all over. Bellamy had been playing a game with his father ever since his mother died, and right now he knew that himself was going to win. "Bell, where are we going?" he heard his sister asked through a big yawn. And as if in a chain reaction, Bellamy began to yawn as well, the effects of tonight finally beginning to way him down. 

Bellamy reached inside his pocket and produced the piece of paper he was so adamant will change both of their lives. "23 Georgetown Terrace," he spoke confidently. "We'll be safe there." 

As unfortunate as ever, it started to rain. The water like freezing cold and icy bullets that exploded on the skin. Both of their hairs began to stick the their foreheads as it became increasingly harder to locate their way through the unfamiliar streets. After an hour and a half of walking the houses began to change. No longer were they small, shabby and rundown bungalows but they were now practically mansions, some of which with multiple stories and large bay windows. Each had immaculate gardens and freshly mowed grass and all of which looked a little intimidating. Neither of them were use to this. 

"These houses are huge," Octavia announced in awe as she looked left to right, her words being shivered as she pulled her coat closer around her drenched body. "Bell we don't know anyone from around here, are you sure we're going the right way?" 

Bellamy was about to answer before he stopped dead in his tracks and saw what was possibly the most magnificent thing he had seen in his entire life. There, just 40 feet away was the house they had been searching for the entire night. As they got closer he couldn't help but drop his mouth at the beauty of it. This was the kind of house Bellamy had always dreamed of growing up in. "We're here O. We're gonna be fine." 

For a while they just stood out the front, with Bellamy trying his best to look at least a little more presentable. He pushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes as he built up the courage to climb the steps to the porch. He looked down at his sister as she looked up at him and he knew he was doing the best thing for the both of them. He held her hand a little tighter and walked them down the perfect pathway. The beating in his heart was hard to ignore but he knew he had to push through it. And he did. 

He pulled the album out from under his shirt, the only way he he could've kept it dry and tucked it under his arm once again. He felt his sister squeeze his hand, an indication that they were both absolutely freezing and that she was becoming impatient. Finally he gave her a small smile before lifting his hand and knocking loudly on the mahogany front door. 

It took only a few seconds before the sound of a voice was heard through the muffled doorway. "Dad," a young girls voice was heard echoing through the large house that lay just beyond the wood. "There's someone at the door." 

A response was followed shortly after. "I thought I told you to go to bed?" 

It was only a few short moments later that the door swung open to a welcoming and familiar face. "Bellamy," the man spoke, being all smiles until he spotted the cut on his lip, the swelling of his cheek and the fear in his eyes. He was looking for an explanation but it was obvious he didn't need one. 

Bellamy locked eyes with the man in the doorway before quivering his words. "You said if things ever got bad at home I could come here, that you'd help the both of us." 

The man rubbed his stubble before crouching down into front of the both of them. His crystal blue eyes broke free from Bellamy's and gazed over at Octavia before locking eyes with Bellamy's once again. He nodded silently before listening intently as his student continued. 

"Mr Griffin can we please stay here?"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really tired so I haven't even written a summary or done all the tags I need to do but I just really wanted to share this with you all. Please let me know if you're enjoying by commenting and leaving Kudos and I'll be sure to answer any suggestions or questions you might have. 
> 
> Xx Sarah


End file.
